Drowning
by DarlingVioletta777
Summary: Veronica felt like she was drowning and there was no one there to throw her a lifejacket. Logan & Veronica pairing
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Drowning

**Author**: fickledame

**Rating**: R

**Pairing**: Logan/Veronica

**Word Count**: 4420 for both parts.

**Spoilers**: Up until 2x05. Set about a month or so after.

**Summary**: _Veronica felt like she was drowning and there was no one there to throw her a lifejacket._

**A/N**: Thanks go to moire2 and semby for their beta work. It's very much appreciated!

Logan thought he imagined it the first time, the soft knock on the door. He squinted in the darkness at his illuminated digital watch and saw it was after 2:00 a.m. He moved to shift over and grimaced when he realised he could barely feel his legs. Sighing he reached out and came into contact with the marble floor he had passed out on for the third time this week. His head pounded with the beginning of what would be a hell of a hangover in the morning.

Just as he was deciding to get up and find his bed, the sound rang out again and he quickly got to his feet, looking around for a pair of rumpled jeans he vaguely remembered discarding somewhere. They were nowhere in sight, but he shrugged, giving up. He had nothing to hide. Logan flipped the light on, and he could see the outline of someone through the glass. He yawned and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

"Booty call?" he asked with a smirk.

"No," Veronica replied quietly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor and her arms were wrapped tightly around her midsection.

He leaned against the door as he waited for her to continue, clearing his throat suggestively when she didn't.

"I don't have all night," he prompted. "I was having a really nice dream about Alyssa Milano, I'm _dying _to get back to it."

Logan sleepily began to focus his attention, taking in her red rimmed eyes and tousled hair, "What, you think you can drop by for a quick fuck to make Duncan jealous? I'm not interested in his leftovers." He ran his fingers across his abs, his tongue sweeping his bottom lip in a blatantly sexual way.

She still didn't answer, just shifted from one foot to the other and if possible, her arms seemed to tighten around her middle.

"I…" she started before stopping again.

Logan blew out a breath of air in frustration.

"Don't have all night here," he snapped while rolling his eyes, "What the hell do you want?"

Veronica shook her head, eyes glazing over with tears.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" she backed slowly away before turning around and walking toward her car.

"I thought you might have understood," he heard her mumble softly.

He rolled his eyes and slammed the door, enjoying the harsh sound in the quiet night. He made his way to his bedroom and threw himself down on the bed. His forehead crinkled while his mind worked over the last few minutes.

A sharp pang of guilt speared him when he thought about how vulnerable she had looked, how desperate. Why the hell would she come to him, he wondered, why not her father or one of her other friends? He found himself on his feet pacing in the dark of his room. Veronica Mars didn't often ask for help, and she sure as hell didn't ask for _his_ unless she was desperate.

_Fuck, Echolls, couldn't you possibly shut the fuck up for one minute and let her talk?_

He sighed as he rummaged through his draw, produced a shirt and a pair of jeans to wear, grabbed his car keys and left.

Logan could see a dim light from the window of Veronica's apartment. He reached up and rubbed behind his ear as he pondered whether to knock or not. He glanced around the parking area for the third time to see if he had managed to miss Keith's car again, but still couldn't spot it.

He decided to risk it and knocked on her door sharply. The door opened quickly and Veronica stood there with an unreadable expression on her face. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail and changed out of the clothes she was wearing before into a strappy top and pyjama bottoms.

"Can I come in?" he asked. She stepped back, holding the door wider. He took that as her way of giving permission and stepped into her living room. He noticed a blanket crumpled on the sofa and next to it, her laptop casting a muted light on the coffee table.

Logan sat carefully at the edge of the sofa and glanced her way. She looked pale and weary as she sat down at the opposite end of the sofa, drawing her knees up under her chin. She reminded him of the Veronica from before, the one that hid behind her curtain of hair and a shy smile. The one that looked at him with a trembling lip and tears after Lilly died when he began to insult her about her cheap clothes and new zip code. Of course, that was before she copped an attitude and started insulting back, with even more bite.

"Where's your Dad?" he asked, glanced around warily, making sure to avoid the gap where a lamp once stood.

"_You don't talk to my daughter that way. You're leaving now and you're never coming back." _

"He's in Chicago with Alicia looking for Wallace," she replied, her shoulders falling at the thought of her missing friend.

"Is that what this is about?" Logan asked, sitting back further on the sofa, feeling more comfortable knowing Keith and his gun weren't nearby.

"I'm sorry," she said for the second time that night. "I didn't mean to go to you, it just happened."

"No one else around?" he asked, trying to keep the bitter tone out of his voice but failing miserably.

"Yes, I mean no, I…" she struggled. "There isn't anyone else, but that wasn't why I went to you,"

"Well, that explains everything," he said waspishly.

Silence hung thick between them, the only sound a distracting dripping noise coming from a leaking tap in the kitchen and the soft sound of snores from Backup, who hadn't stirred when Logan had knocked. _Some guard dog, _he thought.

"So are we going to play twenty questions?"

"Excuse me?" Veronica replied with a frown.

"I ask twenty questions about why you turned up at my house at 2:00 a.m., you tell me yes or no…" He paused for a beat and went on, "So, it's nothing resembling teen post-break-up angst with Duncan? If it is, my sympathy won't be forthcoming."

Veronica sighed, shooting him the patented annoyed glare she had perfected over the past two years.

"I haven't seen Duncan in awhile." She paused before biting out, "Not that it's any of your business."

He held up his hands. "Okay, okay."

Logan leaned forward and smirked. "Thought of something to accuse me of? You haven't done that in awhile. Could be losing your touch, Mars, but then, what's left? We've covered the basics: theft, murder, rape…"

Her head snapped around at his words and a look of anger crossed her face, but then it was gone as quick as it came and a defeated look replaced it.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked as she got up and walked over to the kitchen to open the fridge. "Soda, juice, milk…" she reeled off.

"Milk? What are we, twelve? Got any vodka?"

She froze at his words, the colour draining from her cheeks. Her hand pressed over her mouth as she slammed the fridge shut with her other hand and leaned against it, taking deep gulps of air.

"Are you okay?" he asked reluctantly. "Veronica?"

She took a deep, trembling breath and then he watched as she crumpled to the floor, her shoulders shuddering in time with her sobs. Logan took a hesitant step towards her, his fingers outstretched, before he snapped his hand back. He still found himself moving forward, though and he came to a halt next to her.

Logan watched for a second longer before crouching by her side, his hovering arm coming to rest on hers. He suddenly found her in his arms, one of her arms tightly around his neck and the other clutching his top. He stiffened as she buried her head under his chin.

He's spent so many months angry; a nauseous feeling had gripped his stomach whenever he saw her and Duncan holding hands in the hallway. There had been such a sense of triumph when they suddenly stopped talking. He could barely keep from laughing at Duncan throwing longing looks her way when he thought she wasn't looking, Veronica holding her head high as she brushed past him in the corridor.

He pressed his cheek to her hair, and his gut clenched as he breathed in the soft, familiar fragrance of her shampoo. He had been so long without this, and he didn't know when he'd have the opportunity to hold her again. He took another deep breath, relishing the feel of her closeness and absorbing her scent. He'd wondered, hoped there'd be a next time she'd be near him like this. Well, except with less crying, clothes and, of course, lots of hot make-up sex. He shook off the irrelevant thoughts and tried to comfort her the best he could, despite his duelling desire to hurt her like she hurt him and to protect her from ever being hurt again. But he could feel the waves of sorrow coming from her as her clenched fists twisted at his green shirt, the urge to inflict more pain faded as he slipped his arm under her knees and lifted her up easily.

Logan walked back over to the sofa and sat down, letting her continue to hold him in a death-grip, but he let his arms relax by his sides.

Her sobs were quietening down to a muted hitching of breath and he felt her relax as he ran his fingertips up and down her arm. After a few minutes he was pretty sure she had fallen asleep; he could feel the rhythm of her warm breath on his neck.

He glanced around, taking in the stack of college prospectuses on the table and her camera neatly placed nearby. His eyes shifted across to her laptop and he blurrily made out the image of a woman sprawled out across the floor on the screen. He moved his head forward as much as he could without disturbing Veronica and squinted before he suddenly gasped and sat back. The image was of Lianne Mars. She was ashen white with dark bruises under her eyes and clearly, well, dead.

His heart rate quickened as the meaning of Veronica's words, _"I thought you might have understood," _became obvious. Logan leaned forward and pressed his lips against her smooth forehead, his heart aching. Taking a deep, resigned breath, he closed his own eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.

Veronica blinked awake when she heard a low whine from Backup. Years of experience had taught her he needed to go outside now.

She didn't remember being in this position when she had fallen asleep, which was stretched out on the sofa next to Logan. Her leg was casually draped across his thigh and her head nestled under his chin. He was flat on his back and she was on her side facing him, her arm resting across his middle.

Veronica slowly edged off him, quickly stopping when he breathed deeply, then managing to get to her feet without waking him. She felt a chill at the loss of contact and shivered. She quietly opened the front door and let her dog run out. Veronica turned around and walked up behind her laptop, the image of her mother she had pulled up from the police files was burned into her mind. She really didn't need to see it again, so she pushed the lid down until it clicked, plunging the room into darkness. The notes said they had yet to hold an inquest into her death but preliminary reports suggested accidental death by alcohol poisoning and painkiller overdose. Veronica wondered what exactly the difference was between accidental death on those two substances and suicide. They had yet to correct the name on the death report from Emily Whiteside, which was the false name Lianne had been living under. Veronica deeply regretted keeping tabs on her after she left Neptune last summer; she would have preferred to think of her mother living it up on her stolen college money than lying unknown in a morgue somewhere. God, what was she going to tell her father?

Her eyes adjusted to the new light from the streetlight seeping in through the window as the scratching at the door alerted her to the fact Backup was there. She let him in, and pushed him into her bedroom, closing the door behind him. Veronica walked back into the living room and pulled the band out of her hair, letting it tumble down her shoulders. It was getting really long, and she briefly considered picking up a pair of scissors and hacking it all off to try and alleviate the churning feeling in pit of her stomach but she pressed her lips together instead as she surveyed Logan asleep on the couch. He looked so calm and defenceless without his usual smirk and she felt a rush of tenderness.

Veronica thought she could feel her blood rushing through her veins, going round and round but never actually getting anywhere. Her mouth felt dry and she ran her tongue along her teeth, grimacing at the feeling. She hadn't felt this way since Lilly died – so weak and so utterly fucking helpless.

Veronica felt like she was drowning and there was no one there to throw her a lifejacket.

That's why she had gone to Logan. She thought she'd prefer his cruel and harsh words and hurt demeanour to this nothingness. She was wrong. When he looked at her, brown eyes somehow looking loving despite the hatred spilling from his lip, she had to bail. She couldn't pull him into the deep end with her when he had such trouble keeping afloat himself.

Her palms tingled with the need to run her fingers through his hair, the need to press yearned-for kisses onto his soft lips. She found herself taking a step closer.

Her eyes closed as she fought internally with herself, anguish threatening to bubble out of her in a long scream. That's when she found herself yanking her top off over her head and climbing onto the sofa, her lips on top of his. It was when he began to kiss her back that she realised he was awake and pulled away as he opened his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She took a deep breath before she replied, "Isn't it a little late for a talk about the birds and the bees?"

His eyes widened as she leant back down to kiss him again. His fingers tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss, her slight weight pressing against him. Veronica moaned and he suddenly drew away.

"What?" Veronica trembled at the loss of contact.

"We can't," he stated firmly, looking away from her in a visible effort to keep control.

"We can," she argued, trying to pull him back, but he resisted.

"Veronica, I can't do this with you, not now, not when…" his words drifted to a standstill as his deep brown eyes locked with her mossy green ones.

Her face softened as she murmured, "Please, Logan, I need this, please."

She began to kiss him fervently without waiting for an answer and he eagerly responded, fingers digging into the curve of her waist.

Logan sighed softly to himself as he lay with Veronica sleeping in his arms. Her hair had fallen across her face, covering it from view and he reached out and brushed it away. She looked peaceful now.

He remembered the look on her face as he had reached out and done the same thing earlier, their damp bodies pressed together, their breath coming in short gasps. Her hand had grasped his fervently, her fingers interlocking between his. That was when he had swung his weight around; changing position so he was top and had begun to pound into her, her moans deepening in response.

His jaw clenched as she snuggled further up to him in her sleep. He couldn't deny that he loved her, not even to himself, but the image of her slipping her hand into Duncan's and dismissively saying, "Let's just get on the bus," like he was nothing, like they hadn't spent the summer together, like she hadn't just broken his heart wouldn't escape his mind. The memories of her dancing with Duncan at Homecoming, kissing him hello in class burned into his memory. He couldn't forget the conversation she had with him about the phone call made from his house, carefully worded but in an accusatory tone all the same.

His throat felt like it was closing in slowly, stopping him from getting oxygen and with the remembrance of every word she said, she tightened the feeling.

Fury bubbled up in his throat as he glanced at her again and he sat up quickly, pushing her off him. He grabbed his jeans from where they lay haphazardly on the floor and pulled them on.

He turned to grab his shirt and saw she had pulled the blanket over to cover herself was staring at him with a hurt expression on her face. He shook his head at her and yanked the top over his head.

"Please don't go," she murmured.

"Thanks for the fuck, Mars; I love 2:00 a.m. booty calls," he snarled as he tied his shoes. He couldn't help seeing the broken look on her face when he turned to go. It was a hopeless look that said there was no one left to save her.

_God, Echolls, you're killing the girl you love._

That thought didn't stop him from slamming the door behind him as he walked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Logan pulled up in the parking lot of Neptune High and killed the engine. He glanced around at the already parked cars in the hopes that Veronica's would be there. She hadn't been in school for two days.

He waited outside her homeroom until everyone was there, sans Veronica and Wallace. He felt a tingle of trepidation slither up his spine as he looked at her empty seat, before he walked across the corridor to his locker. Who the hell could he ask? The first people he thought to ask were Wallace and Duncan. Sadly, he was pretty sure he topped both of their shit lists for one reason or the other. In addition, his estranged best friend seemed too busy going through the motions to notice Veronica was gone. And, after looking for Wallace, he found Veronica's best friend to be as equally absent, just in a different way. After his third attempt to enter the right combination, he slung open the locker door and reached for the flask he kept hidden at the bottom.

Logan unscrewed the cap, lifted it to his mouth and paused, the strong smell of the whiskey tantalising his senses. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip while he thought and with jerky motions screwed the lid back on. With a quick shove, it was buried at the bottom of his locker. There was, after all, no way he could find her while drunk, especially if she didn't want to be found.

He clenched his jaw in frustration. He couldn't continue like this. Every time he let his mind wander, the memory of her hopeless eyes filtered through his memory. He couldn't forget abandoning her, leaving her shattered and alone. His actions only added to her pain that night instead of alleviating it. Guilt gnawed away at him and if he didn't see her soon, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

He was driving across town before he realized he'd made the decision to find her. It was interesting, he mused, how much easier it was to drive when he wasn't buzzed . The thought quickly left his mind when he pulled into her apartment complex next to her car. She was probably inside moping around while he went out of his damn mind worrying about her.

As he clambered up the steps, he noticed immediately the curtains were closed and the lights were off. Logan knocked sharply on the door and waited. He glanced down the concrete walk-way to see if there were any neighbours hanging around; but there was no one.

He walked up to her window and leaned against the middle, with his hand shielding his eyes to peer inside. In vain, he tried to see if there was a gap between the curtains, but they overlapped in a way that made it impossible. No surprise that the Mars' would understand how to keep strangers from seeing inside their small home.

A tingle of fear crept down his spine as he wondered why she wasn't answering. The thought of her possibly hurting herself froze him for a moment. His mother leapt from a bridge to get away from the pain, what if she had done something equally stupid? He tried to shake off the thought, as he frantically pounded on the door.

"Veronica?" he called loudly. "Answer the goddamn door or I'll break it down."

He thumped on the door again with his fist and stepped back waiting for her voice to quell his fear. The image of her body crumpled on the floor with an empty bottle of drugs lying next to her flashed through his mind and there were no more decisions to make. He slammed his weight against the door, and felt a sliver of satisfaction at the sound of the jam cracking as it flew open.

He stepped into her apartment and flicked the light on. The room was empty. He stumbled past a bag of books on his way to her bedroom and shoved his way inside. He noticed a few half empty drawers were hanging open before he quickly checked the other rooms. She wasn't there.

As he stepped back into the kitchen, Logan caught sight of a pad of paper discarded next to the phone and picked it up. _'Nov 28th, AirTran Airways 54. Depart: 7:15am. Arrive in Las Vegas: 9:24,'_ was scrawled across in Veronica's writing.

He dropped the pad and spun around at a noise from behind him. Veronica was standing in the doorway looking from the busted door to Logan and back again.

"When did you decide to add breaking and entering to your list of crimes?" she asked, in a tired tone. She looked pale and exhausted, her shoulders slumped and a bag by her feet.

He was across the room in a moment, grabbing her arms roughly.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he snarled, punctuating his words by shaking her. "Do you know what I thought when you disappeared like that?"

Veronica twisted herself out of her grip and shoved him away. "God Logan, if I didn't know better, I'd think you _actually_ gave a shit,"

He stared at her for a second, his heart pounding in relief. He had never been so grateful to see anyone in his life, but the words wouldn't seem to come. With her standing in front of him, he was at a loss.

"Now why would you think I cared about trailer trash like you?" he retorted, but the bite wasn't there. Before she could reply to him, he yanked her forward. His hands moved up and down her back, as if he was assuring himself she was real. He breathed in her scent, relived he'd found her before crushing his mouth to hers.

She melted into his embrace, instantly kissing him back. Her lips parted for his tongue, as he tangled one of his hands in her silky hair, the other rested on the small of her back. He moaned as their bodies pressed together which was when he suddenly found himself being violently pushed away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Veronica cried.

"Doing?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm not gonna let you kiss me, be here, and leave." Her face was contorted in anguish and her breath hitched as she bit down on her lip. "I'm not letting you hurt me again."

"You're not the only victim in this situation, Veronica. I'm afraid you're going to hurt me too," he stated in a brief moment of honesty, but a smirk crossed his face, "You always hurt the ones you love."

The grin faded, and nothing was said for a long time as they gazed at each other.

Veronica abruptly sniffed, grabbed his hand, pulled him over to the sofa and sat down. She paused as she waited to see what he would do. For a moment he was stiff, she watched as he eyed the door, but the moment passed and he leaned back, pulling her against him. Veronica went to him gladly, her head resting on his chest the motion of his breathing soothing her.

As his hands travelled through her hair, the longing to love her won out over the desire to get even. Logan decided to break the silence by asking, "Why did you go to Las Vegas?"

A wry smile parted her lips. "Vegas, huh? You gonna join the Mars' Detective Agency, Mr. Echolls?"

The smile faded and her face went slack. "I went to identify my Mom's body. It was her."

His arms tightened in response to her words and he watched her eyes get glassy with tears. She blinked hard, took a deep breath and looked up at him, resolve clear on her face.

"She'd been living under a false name so Dad and I couldn't find her. After clearing that up, I made arrangements for her to be sent to Neptune for burial."

"I'm sorry you went through it alone," Logan said, the double meaning of his words clear to them both. She nodded and turned so she was facing him, her hand coming to rest on his cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her gently and then rested his forehead on hers.

"I'd like to call a truce," Logan stated, thinking of all the accusations she had thrown at him and she nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Truce." she said softly as she snuggled into his arms, "Sounds like a pretty good idea to me."

_fin_

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